


Wildflower

by LazyKitty



Series: Camp AU [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Fluff, Gen, Hair Braiding, One Shot, Victor and Yuuri meet as kids, ballet camp, childhood AU, flower crowns (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9833075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyKitty/pseuds/LazyKitty
Summary: Minako gets asked to fill in as a ballet instructor at Yakov and Lilia's skating camp. Yuuri is dragged along for the week and makes an interesting friend.~~~~Part of a larger AU where Victor and Yuuri meet as children.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as a one shot, but will likely be part of a series of one shots in the same AU.

The engine of the plane roared to life, startling Yuuri from what was sure to be an enjoyable nap. He was completely alert now, clenching his fists into tiny balls on his lap. Despite looking forward to his first trip on an airplane, he felt his stomach fluttering anxiously. Mari did her best to describe every detail of her only flight – a family trip to Korea the year before Yuuri was born – but experiencing it first hand was completely different. 

He looked out of the small square and watched as the scenery moved faster and faster past them. It didn’t take him long to realize that he did not like the window seat as much as Mari promised him he would. He ripped his attention away from the blurring outside and buried his face into Minako’s side. His whole body felt like it was slowly being pushed into the back of his seat. Minako wrapped her arms tightly around him. He inhaled the familiar scent of her perfume as he clenched his eyes against his tears. “It’s okay, Yuuri. This will be over in a minute. You are being so brave.”

Yuuri whimpered lightly as the strangely sterile, dry air closed around him more tightly. He didn’t feel brave – he felt small and overwhelmed. Mari was five, one year younger than Yuuri was now, for her first flight and she didn’t cry once. Perhaps bravery and confidence were perks of being a first born child. Slowly, the plane leveled out and his breathing came easier. Minako kept her hand in his hair, stroking ever so lightly, for the entirety of the flight. 

“Look Yuuri,” she whispered some hours later, “Welcome to St. Petersburg.”

xXx

Yuuri took his time securing his dance shoes, acutely aware of the quick and quiet exchange Minako was having with one of the other ballet instructors. He looked up nervously at them as they approached. “Yuuri, this is Ina-sensei. She says she has some room in her class for you this week.”

“Arigato, Ina-sensei,” Yuuri said with a nervous bow.

The instructor smiled at the unfamiliar way Yuuri addressed her and said something to him in a language he didn’t understand. She was younger than Minako, and her voice sounded light and sweet, unlike the more senior level instructors. “She says she apologizes that she does not know any Japanese, but will make sure you are in a good spot to see her demonstrations. She says there will be an advanced student, Reina, in the room that will be helping students with the forms, and that you can wave at her if you need some help,” Minako interpreted.

Yuuri nodded and gave his thanks again. Ina turned gracefully and entered the studio. “You’ll do just fine, Yuuri. This class is a beginner class, and will likely be below your current skill level. I wanted to get you into a higher class, but given the language barrier…I thought it would be easiest to start you in this one.”

Yuuri nodded again and clutched his bag closer to his side. “I’ll be in studio F, just down the hall. See you for lunch,” Minako said as she ushered him towards the pristine glass studio door. 

He entered cautiously and walked to the spot along the wall that had been saved for him. Despite Minako’s assurance that it was a beginner class, there were still a few kids in the room that looked older than Yuuri. They were all glancing at each other anxiously. Yuuri set his bag out of the way and began his familiar warm-up that he did with Minako back in her studio in Hasetsu. 

He wondered how renovations weregoing back at Yu-topia. It was the reason he was here, well part of it anyway. His parents had been saving for the last several years to give the deteriorating onsen a face lift, expanding to include a larger dining area to meet the demand for his mother’s home-cooking. He and Mari were originally going to take the train to visit relatives a few towns over, but Minako had a different suggestion. 

She had been asked to fill in as a dance instructor at an ice skating camp in Russia. She knew the coordinators well, having met them several times during her international travels and performances, and agreed to teach intermediate level ballet. Yuuri had been studying under her for several years now, and she thought he might enjoy spending a week around other kids with the same passion for dance, a rarity in Hasetsu. His parents were hesitant at first, but after hearing that Minako would take care of the fees, they were more than encouraging their son to go. 

And here he was. In St. Petersburg, Russia, in a fundamental ballet class, surrounded by people speaking languages he couldn’t understand. Luckily, dance was a language all of its own. One that was so familiar to Yuuri that he didn’t need a translator. It ran through his veins. 

xXx

On the third day, Yuuri finished his lunch quickly. While he had been enjoying the hours of uninterrupted ballet, he was also starting to get a bit bored with the slow pace of the beginner class. He had most afternoons off – the rest of his classmates moved over to the ice rink for the skating portion of the camp. Minako’s string pulling was not able to grant him a spot in the skating lessons, which didn’t really bother him. It would have been impractical for him to take the skating portion of the camp due to the language barrier. While he had been able to manage the ballet sessions easily, he had no prior experience with ice skating to fall back on. So, his afternoons were spent practicing in the empty studio on his own. 

Staying behind also allowed him to observe the intermediate and advanced classes through the glass studio walls. His favorite class to watch was Minako’s afternoon session with the intermediate dancers. He loved watching her teach – she moved so gracefully and smiled so gently at her pupils. Yuuri always felt safe and accomplished as he progressed in his own studies, and he is glad the students here were getting that same experience with Minako. 

Yuuri paused outside of her studio windows. She was at the head of the room, making slight adjustments to a pupil’s leg positioning, slowly working her hamstring to allow the leg to straighten. Yuuri looked down the line of them. Most had very good form, which seemed to improve the closer Minako got to them to offer critique. She stopped again to work with a student (this time on upper body posture), when movement towards the back of the room caught his attention. 

The silver haired boy (the one Yuuri was surprised was not in the advanced sessions) fell out of the pose. Yuuri watched his cheeks flush as he adjusted his grip on the barre and re-extended his leg perfectly. He continued to watch the boy. His arms slowly relaxed into a delicate expression after a few moments. Of all the students at the camp, Yuuri found himself watching this boy the most. He didn't mean to stare, but there was something so natural and beautiful about the way he moved. 

Yuuri saw the dark haired boy behind him tug at his ponytail. The silver haired boy tensed and Yuuri watched as he discreetly hopped forward on his standing leg. The dark haired boy pulled again, reaching higher up this time. Yuuri watched in slight shock as silver hair cascaded down to just below the boy’s shoulder blades. The boy turned to angrily shout at his classmate. This in turn drew Minako’s attention and she started to make her way over to them. The dark haired boy made a face, and his friends laughed behind him. 

The silver haired boy walked past Minako, pulling away as she reached out for his elbow as he continued straight out the studio door. Yuuri heard laughter and Minako’s firm voice spilling out of the crack in the door as she tried to regain control of her class. The boy kept walking, faster and faster, down the hall towards the back exit of the facility. The door slammed shut, echoing down the long hall. Yuuri found that his feet were moving in pursuit. 

The burst of warm air was refreshing, rushing through the door as he opened it to the outside. The buzz of traffic was soft and distant, overpowered by the rustling of trees and chirping birds. Maybe he would move his afternoon practice out here one day, he thought. Yuuri raised his hand to block the afternoon sun as he looked for the boy. The facility backed up against an open field, covered in lush green grass and wildflowers. Yuuri saw him sitting at the bottom of the hill, and began to make his way over to him. He paused when he is a few steps away, his brain finally having caught up to his feet. These impulses and actions were unfamiliar to Yuuri. What washe doing here? Why did he follow? Was there anything he could even do for the boy?

Yuuri seriously contemplated running back into the studio, but realized that the boy was probably fully aware of his presence by now. It would be mean to leave now, right? So he took the last few steps and sat down. Despite the heat, the grass was surprisingly cool beneath him. The boy wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, and turned to face Yuuri. 

Yuuri was taken aback – the boy was glaring at him. Thankfully, the angry façade quickly melted from his face, replaced with a look of surprise and curiosity. Yuuri heard himself let out a sigh of relief. The boy opened his mouth and spoke. 

Yuuri froze, his brain short-circuiting unable to settle on a way to let the boy know he didn’t speak Russian. As he struggled with his senses, the boy tried again, this time more slowly in what Yuuri recognized as English, though it sounded very different from when Minako spoke it. 

Yuuri’s nervous system finally fired signals to his mouth. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak…I don’t understand…” he stammered in Japanese. His hands were twisting frantically in his lap. 

The boy’s eyes widened, and then he smiled. He said something else to Yuuri, reverting back to the first language. It flowed off of his tongue smoothly– it must be Russian. Yuuri thought it was absolutely beautiful. The boy kept talking, sounding calmer and calmer as he continued. He paused occasionally stopping to wipe more tears as they fell from his eyes, or to pull grass from the ground. The boy didn’t seem to care that his words weren’t being understood by his companion, he just kept talking, glancing at Yuuri here and there. 

Yuuri watched his face, watched his hair move in the light summer breeze. The boy got a bit emphatic at one point, as if he was saying something he really, really wanted Yuuri to understand. Yuuri looked at him, trying to say ‘I’m sorry’ with his expression. He wished he could understand, wished he could respond in a way the boy could understand.

The boy suddenly grabbed his own hair and mimed a pair of scissors. Yuuri’s stomach lurched and he felt eyes widen. He shook his head sharply. The boy smiled and released his hair. There were so many things that Yuuri wanted to say, wanted to ask. But, he remained silent. Instead, Yuuri reached out hesitantly towards the boy’s head, not quite sure what he was asking for. The boy nodded, though. Yuuri moved so he could sit on the grass behind him. He had to sit on his knees to reach the top of the boy’s head. Yuuri wondered how old he was. He ran his fingers lightly through the silver locks, and was surprised at how soft they were. He felt a flash of anger towards the dark haired boy for pulling the delicate locks so carelessly. He gathered all of the hair towards him, away from the boy's face and watched as the tension left his body. When the boy started talking again (more calmly this time), Yuuri began to braid. 

Yuuri was an expert at French braiding, a consequence of having Mari as his older sister. It was her preferred style, and their mother often didnot have time between cleaning and preparing breakfast for the onsen guests in the morning to do it for Mari before school. As it turned out, Mari was too impatient to do the style herself and Yuuri had very gentle hands and a lot of time to learn. 

He smoothed out the silver hair as he slowly weaved the sections back and forth, making sure not to make the braid too tight (Mari complained once that he had given her a headache). The three sections were even when he reached the nape of the boy’s neck, and Yuuri smile to himself in pride. In a matter of seconds, he was pinching the end of the braid in place. Yuuri lightly tapped the boy’s hand with his free hand. The boy jumped slightly at his touch, and Yuuri slowly pulled the black elastic off of his small wrist. After securing the braid, Yuuri laid it gently over the boy’s shoulder. 

The boy ran his fingers lightly across the weave in amusement. Then, he picked a purple flower from the grass next to him and wove it through the elastic. Yuuri smiled at him. The boy turned to him suddenly, holding out a pink flower and gesturing to his hair. Yuuri took it. The boy turned and grabbed another one and started to weave it into the tail of the braid. Yuuri giggled lightly and immediately tucked the flower closer to the top of the boy’s head. They continued like this until they ran out of flowers within the radius of their arms.

The boy scooted backwards to sit next to Yuuri. He gently took Yuuri’s hand in his and squeezed it lightly. Yuuri couldn’t help but smile and squeeze back. He looked so much more alive now, his hair a mess of pink, purple, and yellow flowers. They sat there quietly, watching the wind ripple through the long field grass. At some point, Yuuri felt the weight of the boy’s head on his shoulder, and smiled. 

“Aro…Arigato?” the boy whispered hesitantly. Yuuri replied by giving his hand a tight squeeze. 

Some time later, Minako came to collect them. The pair stood up, brushing the grass from their tights. Minako reached out and brushed a stray piece of hair behind the boy’s ear, examining the braid with interest. She spoke to him softly in English. The boy replied, casting his gaze nervously to the ground as he slowly responded. Yuuri felt the sting of jealousy at how easily Minako could communicate with the boy. Minako smiled and lifted his chin with her finger tips, gesturing to Yuuri with her other hand. The boy’s face lit up and he smiled, speaking a bit faster now. 

Minako turned to Yuuri. “He says that his name is Victor Nikiforov. He wants to thank you for being his friend today, and for making his hair extra special.”

Yuuri felt his cheeks blush. The boy called him his…friend? “Victor…Vicchan?” he asked.

Minako nodded. “Umm…” he turned to face Victor. “Um… my name is Yuuri Katsuki. I’m sorry that those boys were so mean. I...I think your hair is very nice.”

Yuuri watched Victor’s face intently as Minako interpreted for them. His eyes sparkled as he responded. Minako sighed and had a quick exchange with Victor – it seemed to be a light, respectful argument of sorts. It looked like Victor won. 

“Victor wants to know if I would let you be in my class tomorrow.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “I said I wasn’t sure if you could keep up with the older students-“

“No! I can do it!” Yuuri interrupted. “Please, Minako-sensei, I know I can do it,” Yuuri said, clutching a fist to his heart, wanting so desperately to dance alongside Victor.

Minako laughed lightly. “Oh my, Yuuri, such determination.” She bit her lip. “There are only two days left of the camp…I’ll check with Ina and Lilia-sensei to make sure it’s okay. Ina says you have been perfect in her class…But if you start getting in the way by falling behind, you will have to leave.”

Yuuri nodded furiously and bowed. Victor smiled brightly at him, grasping his hand tightly.

Yuuri spent the last two days of the camp taking Ina’s beginner class in the mornings and Minako’s intermediate class in the afternoons. He arrived early for his first session so he could make sure to take the spot between Victor and the mean dark-haired boy. Yuuri felt proud of himself for keeping up with the more advanced class, encouraged when Victor offered some adjustments to his form. 

The camp ended too quickly and the engines of the plane were soon roaring to life around him again. Yuuri thought of the small piece of paper safely tucked into his luggage. On the last day of camp, Victor had dragged Yuuri over to Minako and shyly asked if Yuuri would want to exchange addresses so that they could write each other letters. Apparently he was learning to write English now as well. Minako agreed to help Yuuri, and wrote his address out for Victor. Victor handed him a small paper square with shaky characters on it.

“Minako-sensei,” Yuuri whispered a few hours into the flight. 

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to help teach at the camp next summer?”

Minako nodded. “Lilia says she appreciated the help. Even though the instructor I was substituting for will be back next year, she says she can accept more students if I come back.”

“Oh, well that is good. I think your students liked you.”

A few moments of silence passed between them. “Do you think I can go again next year? I can help out at your studio in exchange.”

“I would like that Yuuri.”

Yuuri bit his lip. “Can you teach me how to speak English, you know, for next time?”

Minako looked at him with a glimmer in her eye and nodded in assent.


End file.
